


lingers

by adietxt



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post Whole Cake Island Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10719831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adietxt/pseuds/adietxt
Summary: The first thing Sanji sees when he regains consciousness is Zoro, sitting at a chair near the foot of Sanji’s bed, the upper half of his body slumped on the bed as the swordsman drools on Sanji’s bandaged legs.Huh, is all Sanji thinks. He figures that the oaf would have terrible bedside manner after all.





	lingers

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt from a friend. Our convo went like this:
>
>> friend: Zoro worrying? Fuck yeah  
> friend: Zoro trying not to visibly worry but it's fucken obvious  
> me: GOD  
> me: he Hovers  
> friend: Sanji coming to and seeing how Zoro asleep in the corner and his eyes are kinda puffy and red and so tired and he knows it must've been pretty bad.
> 
>   
>   
> I've been churning a lot of hurt/comfort fics lately, but well, the heart wants what it wants, and it wants Hurt!Sanji. 

The first thing Sanji sees when he regains consciousness is Zoro, sitting at a chair near the foot of Sanji’s bed, the upper half of his body slumped on the bed as the swordsman drools on Sanji’s bandaged legs.

 _Huh,_ is all Sanji thinks. He figures that the oaf would have terrible bedside manner after all.

His first instinct is to kick the brute on the head just because he can, but there’s a sharp jolt of pain across his leg as soon as he attempts to bend it, and Sanji grimaces. He waits until the pain becomes a dull throb under his skin, opting to stare at the infirmary ceiling instead. He wonders how bad it is this time — this injury is unlike anything he’s ever had, but then again, Big Mom is unlike any enemy they have ever faced, either.

He tries to move his hands, wiggle his fingers. They’re clammy, and he can feel the tears of the skin and muscles of his hands, but at least they’re intact. That is already much more than he could ever hope. He will heal, like he always does.

“Mn,” Zoro suddenly mumbles into Sanji’s legs, turning his attention back to the swordsman, and Sanji’s heart leaps in his throat at the sight.

Zoro is the messiest Sanji’s ever seen him be, which is saying something. His hair is sticking in all directions — as if someone not only runs their fingers through but also pulls at it — and Sanji is almost sure that he’s wearing his shirt inside out. There’s a stack of bowls and plates not far from his chair, and Sanji has a growing suspicion that Zoro barely left his side when he was unconscious.

But the most glaring detail of them all is that — Sanji does a double take, unsure. He blinks, a few times, making sure that his vision isn’t deceiving him, but the sight in front of him doesn’t change — Zoro’s eyes are puffy, haggard. Sanji can’t bring himself to entertain the possibility, but it really is almost as if Zoro was —

As if hearing Sanji’s thought process, Zoro somehow chooses that time to snort and blink himself awake.

There’s silence as Sanji waits for Zoro’s moss brain to register what’s going on; he watches as recognition slowly bleeds into Zoro’s expression.

“Hey,” he calls out, trying to hasten the process. He has half the mind to raise his hand in a cheeky greeting, but the muscles of his right arm flares in protest when he tries to move it, so. Never mind that.

Zoro continues to stare at him, dumbstruck. Sanji didn’t think he could look even dumber, but today is truly full of wonders.

“Oi, mosshead, did you get hit in the head or something?” He decides to say when Zoro is obviously not going to start talking. “Hello, earth to marimo?”

Zoro seems to finally process some words Sanji is throwing at him. “You’re…alive,” he observes smartly.

Sanji really wishes he could bottle up Zoro’s stupid expression right now and keep it in his pocket whenever he’s in need of a good laugh. “And clearly talking to you, dumbass. Keep up.”

“You’re alive,” Zoro repeats, scrambling to sit up straighter in his chair.

“Almost there,” Sanji smirks, amused.

Sanji expected Zoro to smirk back. He expected Zoro to call him names like he always does, to yell at him for leaving the crew so recklessly, to start goading him into a fight despite Sanji’s injuries. They may not seem to get along on the surface, but they have their own brand of camaraderie, a dynamic that gives the both of them a unique kind of comfort.

He didn’t expect Zoro’s face to break into a smile.

It’s a small smile, the kind that tugs at the end of his lips, but it’s somehow warming Sanji all over. The furrow of his brows fades, softening his features, and there’s something soft and delicate, almost breakable, in the way Zoro looks at Sanji now.

“Good,” Zoro finally says.

It’s just a word, a _stupid_ word, but there’s an unfamiliar tenderness wrapped around it that scares the shit out of Sanji all of a sudden. Now that Zoro is looking straight at him he can see how red his eye is, watery in a way it rarely is, and the gravity of this revelation makes his face warm all of a sudden.

The look disappears as quickly as it appeared.

“All right,” Zoro says, standing up, oblivious to the internal struggle Sanji is going through. “I’ll call Chopper to do some check up on you.”

Their roles reversed, Sanji is the one who’s dumbstruck; his mind keeps coming back to the look Zoro gave him. He stutters, and settles with, “okay.”

Zoro pats Sanji’s leg as some kind of a wordless, _see you later_ gesture, and walks out of the infirmary room.

Sanji turns to his side, ignoring the jolt of pain in his lower abdomen from the movement, and buries his burning face into the pillow — he would rather fight Big Mom again than admitting it out loud, but he thinks he might have, probably, _quite_ possibly just fallen in love.


End file.
